


Lifeline

by Fishyz9



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 16:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18720640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishyz9/pseuds/Fishyz9
Summary: Realising flowers are pointless, Levi offers a listening ear and a lifeline to Nico after the loss of his patient.





	Lifeline

The self-indulgent part of me wants to wallow in this familiar and oddly comforting feeling of insecurity and self-pity, but the thing is? I think I’ve changed too much to do that. He’s changed me. Despite the fact that I want nothing more than to be comforted and reassured and hugged, I know that I need to swallow these hurt feelings and turn up for Nico. Because that’s what you do for the people you love, even when – _especially_ when they screw up.

I think I’m mostly mad because he’s burst this lovely bubble of ours.  Everything was nice and sexy and he made me feel amazing _all_ the damn time, and perhaps as I stormed out of that room I was hurting because for the first time in months I’d been made to feel less than that, made to feel like the old me. It was sheer disappointment, but more than that, I think I was more upset over the fact that he was no longer this perfect human being I’d built him up to be, and just how unfair is that?

Sure, it didn’t help that I’d been slowly simmering all morning from the news of him potentially having to move for work – another threat to the happy little world I’ve submerged myself in these past few months – but when I put it all into perspective, when measuring my wounded little heart against the shock and guilt he must be feeing, it feels trivial.

I even think it’s possible that he may have mistook my concern for his carrying on with the interview while clearly shell-shocked as opportunistic, my chance to subtly push him in another direction. The idea, along with the memory of the way he looked me up and down as he said what he did makes me bristle. ‘ _It’s basically your entire identity’_. It’s insulting, but I also recalled the slight tremble to his hands as he tried to connect to Skype, the way his eyes were a little too wide, his breathing a little too heavy…he was shaken. Mister calm and collected was anything but composed. I wasn’t there when he had to deliver the news to Josh’s grandfather, but if his demeanour in that room was anything to go by, it had to have been painful.

I’m not saying it’s ok – the way he spoke to me, because it’s not. In fact he broke my heart a little. But if I know him as well as I think I do then this will be just one more thing he’s stewing over right now, and I can’t have that. Time and space was needed and he’s had that, it’s time to do something. That’s why I’m outside of his apartment door now, with flowers in hand and a sick feeling in my stomach.

If he turns me away now, looks at me that way again, if it turns out he is a just a jerk rather than just wounded then these hurt feelings I’ve smothered so far will brim over and I’ll feel…then I _will_ feel a pathetic failure. However, the prospect of him alone in that apartment, thinking the worst is what forces me to knock on the door.

A few moments later he opens the door and I’m immediately struck by how exhausted he appears.  His eyes look heavy, as if he hasn’t slept since last I saw him. But worse than that… he looks impossibly sad.

“Hey,” I say gently, as if speaking too loudly might shatter him.

He drops his gaze, as if ashamed, his hand resting on the handle and his weight leaning against the doorjamb “Levi.”

“You look tired.”

“What are you doing here?”

I feel my heart sink even as the hesitant smile on my face slips away. I wish I hadn’t brought flowers. I’m pretty sure I look seventy percent more stupid for having brought flowers.  I can’t quite meet his eyes.

“We’ve barely spoken; though I appreciate…while we’re at work…” I sigh. “I just wanted to know you were ok.” I hate how small my voice sounds.

“The way I’ve spoken to you...”

I glance up at that; press my lips together in a tight line and lift one shoulder in a small shrug. “People say things they don’t mean when upset or stressed, and I’m hoping you didn’t mean what you said.” I shift from one foot to another uneasily. “I feel like I missed my first real opportunity to be the understanding, supportive boyfriend, just when you needed someone, so…that’s what this is.” I nod to the flowers in my hands.  

He frowns at me. “Are you kidding?”

“An interview for your dream job comes up and all I could think about was you leaving me. I wasn’t trying to make it about me, but...perhaps I kind of did.”

He frowns; closing his eyes and leans his head against the doorframe. “This is just painful…”

“Then you lose your patient, and…” I frown sadly when he visibly winces. “And I downplay it, trying to get you home, and I…I don’t want you to think I was being blasé, or dismissive of what happened.” I sigh again, step closer, trying to catch his gaze which is fixed on the floor. “Basically, all I want to say is how sorry I am for how much you’re hurting. I don’t know this feels… _yet_ , but I do know how big your heart is and how much you care about your patients.”

I hold the flowers out for him. “Can I come in?”

He huffs out a breath. “Let me get this straight.”

My hand holding the flowers slowly lowers and I swallow hard.

“You find out second hand that I might be leaving, you watch me kill a patient, I…I throw your worst insecurities in your face when all you’re trying to do is comfort me, and then you show up here with _flowers_?”

I shouldn’t have come. “Want me to go?” I whisper.

His hand reaches out and snags the front of my shirt and I drop the flowers, stumbling over my feet slightly when he pulls me forward. His arms wrap tightly around my waist and he buries his face against the side of my neck. My back arches slightly, lifting me up onto my toes for how tightly he clutches me.

“I love you.” He whispers brokenly into my neck.

“ _Nico_ …” I say softly, surprised, stroking my hand over the back of his head.

“I’m sorry. I adore you. You’re not…you didn’t _deserve_ –”

“Oh, hey now…” I croon softly, closing my eyes in what feels like relief to finally be holding him. “It’ll be ok.”

“It’s not ok. It’s _not_. He’s dead and I projected all of my crap onto you. _You_ are not the failure, I am.”

“No you’re–”

“ _Yes_ , I am. Not just for killing my patient, but for ruining what we have and…”

I pull back, his face between my hands. “Nothing is ruined, understand?” I don’t know who I’m trying to reassure more, myself or him. “We are more than one fight. We’re made of stronger stuff than that. You and me, mister?” My thumb brushes his cheek. “We’re the real deal. I’m here for the long haul, whether that means going long distance if you leave, or me eventually following you across the country, either way…”

“I’m not going anywhere without you. There’s no unravelling myself from you now, we’re just…”

“We’re together.” I agree softly, wiping the dampness away from the corner of his eye.

He nods, eyes cast downwards. “It scares me how quickly you became the most important thing in my life, Levi. You’re my guy.” His eyes meet mine. “You’re _the_ guy, understand?”

I smile sadly, something inside of me unclenching. “I do now.”

He cringes. “I wanted to call, straight away; I _should_ have. I just didn’t know how to apologise.” His hands clench at my waist. “I guess I thought if I could figure out what went wrong during the surgery first, then…it’d be easier to face you somehow.”

I shake my head. “I should have come and found you sooner.”

“I’m the one who –”

“Nico?” I interrupt him, reaching to brush my thumb along the underside of his lip. “Let’s just go inside.”

He nods and steps back, opens the door as he pulls me along by the hand but then pauses, causing me to bump into him. He looks at me with a slight frown. “Um, it’s… it’s a little messy inside.”

I smirk, but not unkindly as I step through the door. “You mean more than us –?” I stop dead in my tracks.

The coffee table is overturned. All the text books and medical journals he owns, which is a lot, are lying open across the living room floor and every countertop in the apartment. His flat screen is cracked, half hanging off the wall.

And I brought _flowers_?

I got this so, so wrong. I suddenly feel disappointed with myself, _embarrassed_ even at how badly I’ve misjudged this – at the _degree_ in which I’ve miscalculated the severity of what he was feeling. I look back at him in quiet shock.

He swallows. “I killed a kid, Levi.” He says quietly and in simple explanation. “Anyone else would be in prison.”

I feel a lump form in my throat. I should have followed him home that same night. “He wasn’t a child–”

“He had his whole life ahead of him; he was a kid. A kid with back pain who was otherwise completely healthy until I got my hands on him.”  He leans back against the door, his shoulders slumping. “ _God_.” He grinds out angrily between gritted teeth, his balled up fists pressing into his brow. “His grandfather? He just…he _crumbled_ in front of me…”

I clear my throat, not quite trusting my voice. “Ok,” I say quietly, coming to stand in front of him, my hands running soothingly up and down his arms. “This is what we’re going to do. I’m going to run you a bath and you’re going to relax a little. You’re going to eat something, and then–”

“I’m not–”

“This isn’t up for discussion. You’re going to eat something, just a little something, and then we’re going to bed and you’re going to catch up on some sleep.” I take a breath, preparing myself for a little push back. “And then tomorrow when you walk into that hospital you’re doing it with your head held high–”

He turns his head to the side. “Levi…”

My hand under his chin forces him to look at me. “Yes, yes you are. You are not the first surgeon to make a mistake of this magnitude, despite what Doctor Bailey and Pierce would have you think.” I say almost bitterly. “And you will not be the last. So rather than letting this define you, you are going to use it as fuel, Doctor Kim, fuel for all your future patients who will need your talent. Understand?”

His eyes, dark and glistening, watch me. His hand reaches up, circling my wrist. “Levi Schmitt…” he says, his voice, rough and thick with emotion. “I am going to keep you forever.”

I feel my whole body still, followed shortly by a rush of frightened delight I’m not quite sure I can hide. “Alright,” I answer carefully, aware of the tremble in my voice. “But first, you’re going to take a bath and eat some toast, deal?”

He gives me a sad smile. “Deal.”

His movements are slow, as if exhaustion is only now just catching up with him now that he’s stopped moving. I pour a few bubbles into the water and snag up the sweater he let drop to the bathroom floor and fold it, shooting him a playfully chastising look. He cracks a small smile.

“Sorry.”

It’s one of my favourite bugbears, because it’s not actually a nuisance at all, it’s… it’s this cute little thing between us. I like how domestic it feels to pick up after him, to chastise him for being messy even though it’s his apartment. The fact that he lets me, and with such a fond expression makes it feel like it’s my home too.

He sinks into the water with a quiet groan and I kneel beside the bath for a moment, my chin resting on my forearm along the edge of the tub. “Roman statue.” I sigh.

He blinks sleepily at me. “Hmm?”

I smile. “Nothing. Tilt your head back a second.”

He does as he’s told, sinking down a little further. I reach into the tub a take a few handfuls of water, letting it wash from his hairline back.

“You don’t have to do that.” He says, eyes closed and tilting his head back despite his words.

“Quiet.” I murmur, running my fingers through his hair. He hums in agreement and I’m pretty sure he’s close to sleep right there.  I suds up my hands, gently massaging his scalp as his head falls to one side towards me.

“Hey.” I whisper.

His eyes crack open.

“I haven’t kissed you in forever.”

He frowns sadly and lifts one hand out of the water, dripping over the side of the bath as he tugs me forward by the collar of my shirt. He presses his lips to mine in what starts as a simple, sweet kiss. He turns in the tub, leaning one arm over the side, his other hand sliding against the side of my neck, leaving a damp trail as he deepens the kiss.

“Get in here with me.”

I smile into the kiss, pulling away with a small shake of my head. “Next time. You enjoy the bubbles while the water’s still warm; I’m going to clear up a little.”

 “You don’t have to–”

“I know.” I reassure him. “But I more or less live here too, so let me clear up a little and then we’ll go to bed.”

 “I better not hear that vacuum, Levi. It’s my mess to clear up.” I can’t help but feel there’s a little more to his words than the obvious, but I nod and run my hand over the back of his head as I stand.

I set the furniture straight, line his text books back onto the shelves where they belong and clear the few dishes sitting in the sink.  I even find his tool box and manage to unscrew the TV from where it hangs from its hinges on the wall. Not an easy feat, but I’m certain that if I were to leave it as it was we’d be rudely awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of it crashing to the ground.

“You’re right.”

I turn around, just as I’m placing his toolbox back under his sink. “I know. About what, though?”

He leans against the wall, damp hair swept back and towel riding low on his hips. He draws invisible shapes against the wall with his thumb. “You do basically live here. You _should_ live here.”

I wipe my hands against my thighs and then together as I walk towards him. “Guilt’s a funny thing. It makes us desperate to make amends.”

“If I hadn’t blurted out the whole _‘going to keep you forever’_ thing, more or less quasi proposing would you be saying yes right now?”

“Probably.” When I come to stand in front of him my hands reach out to run up and down his chest appreciatively.

“Say yes anyway.”

“Kiss me again so I know you mean it.”

His fingers slide against my neck and he hunches his shoulders slightly, dipping his head to pull me into his kiss. “Move in.” _I need you close_.

I bite my lip and then shrug casually. “Ok, sure.”

He snorts quietly. “Playing it cool, I like that.”

“One of us has to.”

“I should definitely have kept my intentions to myself.” He admits, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

“No, you owed me that little display of vulnerability.”  

He concedes with a tilt of his head. “Just out of interest–”

“Yes.” I whisper.

He smiles.

“Not now, but yes.” A calmness that wasn’t there a moment ago seems to settle over him at my words.  “I’m so crazy ‘bout you, you know that? You think _you_ have it bad…” I admit with sad, quiet laugh. I pull him away from the wall and turn him, pushing towards the bedroom. “Go get settled, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He smiles over his shoulder and heads into the bedroom. Not soon after and with a plate of buttery toast in hand I shoulder open the bedroom door to join him. I find him hastily picking clothes up off the floor, shoving them into the hamper. When he sees me he shoots me a sheepish look over his shoulder.

“You’re not cleaning up in here too.”

I lick butter from my thumb and nod over to the bed. “I hadn’t planned on it. Get in. “

He does as he’s told and I set the plate down so that I can quickly strip down to my boxers and t-shirt before joining him.

“What about crumbs?”

I shrug, handing him the plate. “Who cares?”

“You, the crumb police.”

“Am I really that high maintenance?”

He doesn’t answer but smothers a small grin and takes a bite of toast. He hums in appreciation.

“I knew you’d be hungry.”

He chews, watching me.  “Thank you for being here.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

His smile looks sad. “Do you get this from your mother?”

That makes me pause as I’m settling comfortably against the pillows next to him. “Huh?”

“The whole nurturing thing. Do you get that from your mom, or is it just a Levi thing?”

I feel oddly touched and clear my throat, not really sure of how to respond. “I guess you could say it’s a watered down version of my mother, maybe.” I turn sideways, leaning my elbow over the pillow and propping my head up in my hand. I’ve missed this bed, I’ve missed talking to this man. “You’ll see when you meet her I guess.”

His chewing slows and he raises a brow at me. I roll my eyes at him. “That was nothing, you asked me to move in and pseudo proposed. I’m not embarrassed to admit the obvious in that one day soon you’ll likely meet my mother.”

He smiles, but again, there’s something sad about it. I reach to brush my finger under his chin. “What?”

He sets the plate of half-eaten toast on the bedside table and then focuses on his hands in his lap. “We’ve missed out a whole conversation here, Levi. You steamrolled straight into forgiveness and I haven’t even adequately apologised.”

“Priorities, Nico. You’re a hell of a lot more fragile than I am at the moment. And I told you, I understand why–”

“I know you understand why, but…” he reaches for my hand, entwining our fingers together. “I think your feelings are a little more hurt than you’re letting on. And if you keep yourself busy by being concerned for me, well then you don’t have to think about what I said.”

“Or I just forgive you?”

“Can you just let me apologise anyway? Please?”

“But why –?”

“Because I’m drowning in guilt, Levi. Over my patient, over you, I… “He lets out a harsh sigh. “I hate that you probably look at me differently now. I hate that I failed so spectacularly _in front of you_. Most of all, I hate that I was graceless and cruel to the one person who…” He voice cracks slightly and he looks away for a second, his throat bobbing when he clears his throat.

“You, Levi, are the very definition of perseverance. You are not a failure; you’re the _antithesis_ of failure. You are sheer determination when faced with any barrier and I admire the hell out of that, out of _you_.”

I swallow hard, feeling my throat grow thick. I realise that he was right; I was still smarting over his words. “Thank you.” I say quietly. “You understand that you’re allowed to fail or show weakness in front me, right? You can’t just be this perfect person all the time.”

“You thought I was.” He admits quietly, unable to look me in the eye.

I bite my lip. “And perhaps that’s not fair, at this stage, anyway. I mean… I feel like we’ve settled into this next phase of our relationship, almost without even realising it. Maybe it’s not so new, maybe now we’re at a point where we show our flaws and trust each other enough to know that we _can_ be imperfect without worrying that it’ll be seen as a reason to walk away.”

He gives me a small, sad smile. “You know, when I got home that night? And it was just me walking around inside of these walls, slowly losing my mind–”

“Baby,” I whisper, my hand holding onto his wrist, rubbing up and down his forearm.

“All I wanted,” he continued. “ _All_ I wanted was you.”

“I’m sorry–”

“No.” He’s quick to stop me, firm. “No, no more apologies from you. I did it to myself, and I think that’s what was killing me because I’ve never been in a place where my source of comfort has been someone else. I’ve always been self-reliant, independent. But…” he struggles, his words coming out forced and strained. “I was in more pain than I knew how to deal with and all I wanted was…” he takes a shaky breath, and the one tear that escapes the corner of his eye breaks my heart. “All I wanted was to be held by you and I knew that I’d ruined any chance of that.”

I shuffle closer, my hand brushing the side of his cheek and wiping away that tear. “Hey, I’m _here_.” My own voice catches, so unused to seeing him this vulnerable. “Nothing is ruined.”

His hand touches the back of mine and he dips his head to press his lips to the inside of my wrist, but he won’t meet my eyes. “In my head I was going back and forth between the look of horror and grief on the face of Josh’s grandfather and the look of hurt and shock on yours, and…”

“It’s going to be ok.” I try to reassure him, seeing how close he is to unravelling all over again. “Take a deep breath for me.”

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. “I thought that if I could at least figure out what went wrong, then I’d be able to face Bailey; I could give Josh’s grandfather an explanation, _closure_. I could even…” his eyes meet mine, and he suddenly looks so young, younger than me even. “Maybe I could still be the guy you fell in love with.”

I feel something inside of me fracture, I could cry. “You _are_ that guy.”

“You don’t see me differently?”

“Well, yes…”

His eyes meet mine, stricken. I rush on. “Only that I feel closer to you now than I did two days ago. You feel…you feel more real to me, somehow.”

“What do you mean?” He whispers.

“You’re human. You make mistakes, you…need me. Before it just felt like I needed you, and you… _enjoyed_ me.” I shrug. “The circumstances aside, I feel like I know you in a way I didn’t a few days ago. I feel…important, vital.”

He tilts his head to the side, letting out a harsh breath. “You _are_. You’ve no idea how much I need you.”

I give him a small smile, tracing the shape of his jaw with my finger. “I do now.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Levi, I…”

He battles with whatever it is he wants to say, and I’m bemused by the flush that creeps up his neck and the reticence that suddenly takes over him. “I need you, I really need you.”

His hand pulls at the front of my t-shirt until he’s tugging, pulling me forwards. I follow, and when he slinks down against the pillows onto his back, pulling me over him I settle between his legs automatically. His hand lets go of my t-shirt and wraps around the side of my neck, he swallows hard, not quite able to meet my eyes.

Braced over him, I only catch on when I feel his knee raise against my side. “ _Oh_ ,” I say in a quiet whisper. “You…yeah?”

Gorgeous, dark eyes finally meet my gaze. The flush spreading over his cheeks lets me know that this is not an easy request for him to make. “I…” he wets his lip. “Yes? But only if you–”

“Oh I _want_.” I gasp out. “I just…I didn’t think that you liked to…you know. Which I’m _fine_ with,” I rush on. “I just…I figured if you did we probably would have swapped it around a little by now.”

“It’s not really that often that I do,” he admits quietly, his hands ghosting up along my sides beneath my t-shirt, sending shivers down my spine. “But, you’re…you’re my guy and I love you and…you turn me on like nothing else...” he lets out a small, embarrassed laugh, turning his head away against the pillow for a second until my hand at his jaw encourages him to look at me. Dark brown eyes look up at me, trusting. “I just want to feel you, Levi.”

My heart hammers in my chest, and I only realise that I’m trembling slightly when my hand brushes against his cheek. I feel my heart stutter when his eyes, those beautiful, exotic eyes flutter closed at my touch, turning into my touch. When he looks at me again I have to swallow hard for how unquestioning and open he is, lying beneath me like this.

He wets his lip, whispers. “Do you want me?”

A broken groan rips through my throat and I press my lips against his. “Yes,” I gasp between kisses. “Yes, I want you. _God_.”

The sheer want I feel for him leaves no room to be self-conscious or nervous.  In fact, when I reach for the lube in the bedside draw the damn thing goes sailing from my hand in my over eagerness. I lurch over the side of the bed, trying to catch it and land in a heap on the floor as a result. I don’t even pause however, just pick myself up and crawl back over him, despite the fact that he’s turned his face into the pillow to muffle his laughter.

“No, no, no…” I chuckle, pressing my lips against his neck. “It’s still sexy; this is still sexy and not at all funny.”

He’s still laughing as he finally looks at me. “You fell off the damn bed.”

I take his hands in mine, pressing them into the mattress above his head. “And we’re in agreement that it was sexy as hell and _not_ ridiculous.”

His leg hooks over the back of my calf, his head tilting to the side against the pillow as he looks up at me.  “I love you so damn much.”

“You’re going to be loving me more in a minute.”

“Put your money where your mouth is.” He says smoothly, arching beneath me.

“Oh I will. Keep your hands where they are for a minute.” I murmur, letting go of his wrists, my hands trailing down his arms.

My lips follow the smooth planes of his muscular chest, the dips and curves of his stomach. “I could spend forever doing just this.”

“Move south a couple inches and I’m in complete agreement.”

I snort, pressing my face into his stomach which caves slightly as he laughs. “I’m trying like hell to make this sexy, why are we laughing so much?”

“Because,” he says dreamily, his arms crossing behind his head as he looks down at me, a distinctly fond look in his eyes. “It’s just good with us. _Easy_. Not everyone has this, we’re lucky.”

I kneel back on my heels and take him by surprise by yanking him further down the bed with my hands behind his thighs. He lets out a surprised yelp, grinning up at me when I brace myself over him, my hands thumping into the mattress either side of his head. “Good isn’t _good_ enough for me. Let’s aim un-fucking-believable.”   

He’s about to answer but I cut him off with a deep kiss, my body sinking down onto his. He sighs softly as I rock into him, and when he smiles into the kiss I know exactly why. “Reminds you of when we first started dating, right?”

He nods his head. “Grinding together on the couch like teenagers, desperately wanting to screw each other but nervous like a couple of horny virgins…”

“I _was_ a horny virgin.” I laugh softly, then smirk when I grind against him _just_ right and his breath catches. “You deflowered me, you old letch.”

“I’m not that much older than you, and I’m not a letch.”

“Says the guy grabbing my ass right now.”

He dips his head to press his lips against my throat, his hands squeezing my ass. “It’s a really great ass. I’m not even kidding; the way your scrubs top sits just perfectly…ok maybe I am a letch.”

I laugh. “Yeah, well…” I groan as I stretch, reaching for the lube again – with _out_ falling this time. “I’m about to give you a run for your money.”

The idea oral sex, of _giving_ oral sex, to a man that is, would have previously and secretly both terrified and intrigued me. I’d always thought that it had potential to be stressful, what with teeth and gag reflexes to consider, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. In fact I think pre-blowjob Levi would be half shocked, half impressed at the commitment and dreamy adulation I bestow upon this gorgeous man’s dick. I love this. I love doing this to Nico.

The first few times, post ambulance, Nico had barely concealed his amusement at the damn near studious attentiveness I applied in my efforts to learn the art of oral sex. It wasn’t long until that amusements turned into bemused captivation. Gentle, encouraging hands soon became trembling fingers fisting in the hair at the back of my head, stuttering groans and muffled curses mingled with my own salacious moans. I could work him for hours if I wanted to, and the day he told me, panting and with one arm flung over his face, that I had just given him the best god damn blow job of his life? You’d think I’d won the Harper Avery for how I pleased it made me.

Tonight though, tonight we’re going a step further in our relationship. I can easily imagine this being awkward for the first time with anyone else, but honestly, laying half over him, braced on one arm and pressing my lips to his exposed neck as he groans and arches, pushing down on my hand, onto my fingers… it’s sheer perfection. _He’s_ perfection.

I can’t even bring myself to feel apprehensive about impressing him, over my performance in general, I’m too ready; too enthralled by the way his body is moving, by the captivating sounds spilling from his lips. If my hands tremble as I roll on the condom it’s from impatience and a fervent need to be inside of him _now_. And I don’t even attempt to hide it which fortuitously has the knock on effect of dissipating any nerves he may have been feeling earlier because we are all hands, all shared grins and messy kisses.

There’s one last shared look, an _‘are you sure?’_ which is met with an impatient nod, and then I’m pressing inside of him, my eyes falling shut and head lolling back. When I find myself seated deep inside of him, I let out groan which sounds close to relief. I look down at him, brushing my nose against his as he bites his lip, his thighs warm against waist. “Ok?” I whisper.

He looks perfectly content, nodding and humming dreamily. I begin to move, a tentative first withdraw and slide in, and I’m not sure which one of us groans louder. As soon as we have a steady rhythm, nice and slow for now, I lean my weight into him so that I can nip playfully at his lip, eliciting a breathless laugh from him.

 I slide one forearm underneath him, hooking under and over his shoulder, with the other I brush his cheek with the backs of my fingers. “Look at you.” I whisper. “Just look at you.”

His breath stutters and his cheek leans into my touch, his thigh hitching up higher against my side.

“These damn eyes.” I murmur. “Can’t live without these eyes. Don’t take yourself away from me again. Not ever.”

 He makes a noise I haven’t heard from him before, somewhere between a sigh and something pained and choked. “Levi…”

“Right here.” My back arches, pushing deep, his head rocking against the pillow. “I’m right here, and you’re ok. I’ve got you.”

His hand at the back of my neck pulls me down into a hard kiss. His hand fists the hair at the back of my head and he squeezes his eyes tight as if in an effort to feel every one of my words to the fullest. My hand darts out and grips the top of the headboard, tears spring into the corner of my eyes in an effort to stave off the building heat in my groin. I allow myself a few more indulgent hard thrusts and then abruptly pull away from him.

Before he can protest too much I deftly slink behind him, encouraging him onto his side. I cushion my arm under his neck slide my hand along the back of his thigh, his knee bending as I slide back into him.

“ _Yes_.” He hisses.

I hook my arm around his chest and press my lips to his shoulder, to the crook of his neck. “I love you, I love you…” I murmur into his ear. His whole body, pressed against the length of mine shudders from it.

“Levi…” I’ll never tire of hearing his voice saying my name, deep and breathless. Like he needs me. _‘I need you. I really need you…’_

My hand, splayed against his chest is covered by his and he entwines our fingers. “I need you too.” I groan into his ear. “So much…”

Eventually, and without even meaning to he’s practically laying on his stomach with the length of me spread across his back. His hands grip the headboard and I cover them with my own. I can’t hold off any longer so I dig one hand beneath him, wrapping around the length of him. He gasps and I stroke him once, twice before he’s coming, his head turned as he muffles his cries into his arm.

The sound of him drags me through my own orgasm. I hold my breath through it, exhaling loudly and collapsing against him. I’m sure I’m heavy but for the moment I can’t move. I turn my cheek against the back of his shoulder, just lying there, rising and falling with every breath he takes.

“Nico,” I murmur, and he hums in response. Eventually I let out a breathless laugh, turning to press my lips to his shoulders, to the nape of his neck before I pull away to clean up.

My legs feel like jelly. Smirking to myself I turn back to the bed to tell Nico as much, but the words die on my lips. He’s where I left him, still laying on his stomach but he’s clutching the pillow, his face smothered into it and the muscles of his shoulders bunched, his frame shaking.

“ _Nico_ …” I take a few hurried steps back to the bed and quickly crouch over him, my knees resting either side of his hips and my hands gripping his biceps. I press my lips to his ear. “Hey, hey, shhh…”

He takes a few gulping breathes but his frame continues to shudder with his silent tears.

I squeeze and rub his arms.  “You’re alright, I’m here. I’m right here.”

“I’m…I’m sorry –”

“No.” I say firmly, pressing kisses into his hair, against his neck. “Don’t. There’s nothing to be sorry for, not with me.”

Eventually his breathing begins to even out. “That’s it, deep breaths, baby.”

When I feel he’s calm enough I slide to his side, slinking down next to him. Running my fingertips through his hair seems to encourage him to eventually lift his head from the pillow, turning to rest his cheek against it, red rimmed eyes meeting mine.

“Hey you.” I say softly.

He closes his eyes. He looks so, so tired that it hurts my heart. I let him remain quiet, not pushing him to speak. Instead I reach for the blankets which were kicked away to the foot of the bed and lift them over the both of us.

“Come here.”

I tug at his arm, and after hesitating for only a moment he lifts and lays himself across my chest, the top of his head snug under my chin. I pull gently at the short strands of his hair, watching them run through my fingers. My other hand tracing lazy shapes across the backs of his shoulders.

“I’m scared that this feeling’s never going to go away.”

“Maybe…maybe it won’t go away, but will change into something else. Something like determination. And I don’t think this is something that should go away, for any of us, but I also don’t think it’s something you should allow to bring everything else in your life to a halt.”

He looks up at me, resting his chin on my chest. I brush my finger against his cheek.

“Maybe this is the thing that’s going to force you to work harder, push harder than even you thought possible so that when you get that impossible case? The patient who can’t be helped? You’re the one who figures it out because you’ll always be striving to save Josh. Josh, who shouldn’t have died, helping you to save the one who wasn’t supposed to live.”

He slowly closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before dropping a kiss to my chest and looking back up at me. “I think you just handed me a lifeline.” He whispers.

“Not a lifeline. Just some sound Sherpa-like logic.”

He lets out the smallest of laughs and it’s music to my ears.

“I think I might be able to sleep now.” He murmurs.

“Then sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“You’re moving in?” He asks sleepily.

“First chance I get. But we need a new TV.”

I feel his lips pull into a smile, his breathing evens out, and then he’s sleeping. I lay awake a while longer, watching over him.

 

 

 


End file.
